


Morrison the Mobra

by Anarchyinplasma



Category: The Divine Assistance Series - L G Estrella
Genre: F/F, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25814053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: Death might be relatively laid back as parents go, but Life takes her duties as a mother very very seriously.
Relationships: Life/Death, Young Death/Zephyra
Comments: 2





	Morrison the Mobra

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raziel12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raziel12/gifts).



> I'm sorry but the idea just wouldn't let me go once you mentioned it, I hope you like it Raz; and I hope it's not too bad.

Life was in a bit of a pickle. Her daughter had come to her realm positively radiant with excitement, ecstatic over the new change in her relationship with Zephyra. The young goddesses were now engaged, and while Life and Death had both been incredibly supportive of their relationship thus far, it was time to lay down the law and remind young Zephyra which family she was marrying into.

But Young Death was aglow, proudly showing off the expensive ring that Zephyra had made her with guidance from a smithing God. A radiant divine gemstone set in a band created from swirling loops of gold and platinum, surrounded by blood red rubies and perfectly cut pure-grained obsidian.

Life had no doubt, Zephyra was good for her daughter, she would make her spectacularly happy, but she had a duty as a mother, and it was one she took very seriously; and so, to concerned looks from her son and husband, Life hatched a cunning plan.

And a few days later, as an engagement present, Young Death received a Mobra.

Life had perfectly crafted Morrison the Mobra herself, and he was in her opinion the greatest example of his species that would ever be seen. His fur was short, and glossy, perfectly maintained, his forked tongue was dextrous and fluid, his brain enhanced with divine power that made him more a genius than even the human responsible for the incredible work "Evolution by Natural Selection and Possible Encounters with Really Big Dragons" (a book Life especially adored). And his fangs could rend steel and deliver a dose of venom lethal to any creature short of Skyburner.

He was, all in all, the perfect early engagement present for her daughter.

And so, Morrison the Mobra was sent back with his young charge to the small cozy cottage she shared with Zephyra on the border between their realms; with one instruction, keep an eye on that other girl.

\-----

"What have you done?" Asked Death, bemused, as his wife stared into a reflecting pool that showed their daughter arriving home with a Mobra on her shoulders.  
"Just a little insurance policy." Life said. Death cocked his head, confused.  
"I thought you loved Zephyra" he pointed out, carefully. "You welcomed her into the family yourself."  
"Just an insurance policy" Life reiterated, looping her arm through his and pulling him closer to the reflecting pool. "Look, his name is Morrison, isn't he adorable?"

Adorable, Death reflected as he took in the metre long furry ball of hideously venomous death that encircled his daughter's shoulders like a particularly lethal scarf, was not the word he would use.

\-----

When Young Death arrived back at their cottage, the first thing she did was proudly show off her new pet to her soon to be wife.  
“Isn’t he so cute?” she hummed as Morrison uncurled from her shoulders and scurried down her arm to curl up on her hand and observe Zephyra with cold, calculating eyes.  
“Uh…” Zephyra stalled while the mobra’s eyes burned a hole in her head. “He looks wonderful, where did you get him?” Young Death smiled and scritched Morrison under his chin.  
“Mother gave him to me as an engagement present. I love him so much.”  
Zepyyra gave a non-committal “hm” sound and gathered her courage as she reached out a tentative hand to stroke Life’s latest creation, who appraised it coldly for a minute before jumping on and scurrying up to play scarf around her neck.

Young Death slipped into a somewhat shocked Zephyra’s hug with a quiet sigh of relief, and was even happier to feel her fiancée’s other hand come up to scritch tentatively between Morrison’s ears. The mobra leaned into it immediately, rubbing his silky fur into Zephyra’s chin and Young Death’s forehead.  
“I think he’ll be right at home.” Zephyra said as she found her words again, “does he have any special requirements?”  
“Nope, nothing special” Young Death hummed into her collarbone and stepped back a touch to more easily lavish attention on the preening mobra.  
“What’s he called?” Zephra asked and Young Death cocked her head while Morrison nuzzled along her fingers.  
“I never asked actually,” she turned her attention to her new pet, “what is your name?” Morrison gave a hissing squeak in response and went back to rubbing his head under Zephyra’s chin.  
“He says his name is Morrison.”

\-----

Death could barely believe his eyes or his luck. His eyes never lied, and yet what they showed him now was his wife being wrong, Life stood almost dumbstruck, instead of the cowering, simpering mess she’d expected Zephyra to be reduced to in the face of such a cute yet deadly creature, what she hoped would be a suitable reminder to stay in line the younger Goddess had instead embraced and was curled up around her neck as the young couple made dinner. But this was fine, she could work with this, clearly she’d simply loaded Morrison with a little too much of the cuteness factor, but this could be remedied, she simply needed something else to remind Zephyra of her power lest Young Death get hurt in any way. The mobra would be fine as a pet, but it was time to be serious about her duties as a parent.

As Life began to shape and craft another creature to intimidate her daughter’s wife-to-be, Death could only wonder with a morbid fascination what the end result of this would be.

\-----

And so it was that on next month's visit, Young Death received a dragon. The vast creature shook the whole realm with it’s greeting roar, pitch black scales drinking the light to shine with the intensity of a dying star as it’s shadow blotted out the blue-tinged sun of Life’s realm. The young Goddess raised a single eyebrow minutely at her mother’s gift.  
“What’s he called mother?”  
“His name is Ancalagon” Life replied, shooting a victorious glance at Death around their daughter’s back as the oldest greater god stood with his family resisting the urge to drop his head into his hands.  
“Your brother helped with his gorgeous colouration.” Life said as they floated up to inspect Ancalagon the Dragon’s huge frame, both of them landed on his snout and Young Death giggled as the massive dragon went cross-eyed trying to look at the two goddesses perched in front of his face.

“He truly is a wonderful gift mother” Young Death murmured appreciatively as she continued to inspect her new dragon’s frame. Sensing his new master’s approval, Ancalagon reared up and spread his wings, purple expanses mottled and shot through with thick veins that resembled lightning in one of the primordial storms that still raged in the farthest corners of creation.  
“I’m so glad you love him” Life gave the massive dragon a pat and Young Death tried to think of the most tactful way to phrase her next remark.  
“I don’t think I have anywhere to put him.”  
She was subsequently treated to puppy-dog eyes from not only a dragon the size of two or three ostentatious castles but her own mother, of all people.

“Are you sure?” Life asked, and Young Death nodded firmly.  
“I am sure mother, he could swallow the cottage whole.”  
“Oh well that’s easily fixable” Life rolled her eyes and waved her hand, and suddenly Ancalagon went from a ground-shaking monster who could make the very depths of the void tremble with his roar to a cup-sized version of himself who made the most adorable squeaky roar when he nuzzled into two of Young Death’s fingers.

Immediately the young goddess picked him up and let him rest in her outstretched hand.  
“I’m sure you can control his size as necessary, with how accomplished you’ve become.” Life gave her daughter a fond hug and gave her new miniature dragon a soft pat, before ushering them back home with new confidence in her scheme to remind Zephyra of her promise to treat her daughter correctly.

\-----

Young Death pushed the door open and shuffled in forlornly, Zephyra looked up from her book and greeted her with a warm smile, which quickly shifted to a frown as she noticed that Young Death’s gaze was glued to her feet.  
“Did something happen?” She asked, marking her page and setting the book down.  
“Well…” Young Death shuffled over awkwardly and held out her hand, putting the tiny Ancalagon right in front of Zephyra’s nose.  
“Awwww” Zephyra cooed, stroking over his small scaly head with a fingertip.  
“You like him then?” Young Death asked as Ancalagon got up and stretched like a cat in her hand, leaning into Zephyra’s fingertips.  
“He’s the most adorable little thing I’ve ever seen” Zephyra whispered, fully engrossed in the little dragon.  
“About that,” Young Death swallowed a lump in her throat, “he was another gift from my mother.”  
“Ah… I see…”

As much as they loved Morrison, who was so enamoured of the young couple that he slept curled up on their bed every night; neither of the young goddesses were quite as oblivious to LIfe’s scheme as the elder goddess might have liked to believe.

“How big is he supposed to be really?” Zephyra asked apprehensively, and Young Death gestured vaguely to the building around them.  
“As big as the cottage?” Zephyra shrugged. “Well that’s not so… what?” Young Death shook her head and clarified.  
“He could swallow the cottage and it wouldn’t even touch the sides of his throat.”

After a few moments of enjoying the ‘blue-reflecting-pool-of-death’ look that swept over Zephyra’s face like a tropical storm, Young Death reached out and closed her jaw for her.  
“I think it’s best he stay this size until we need him.” She looked down at the tiny Ancalagon still rubbing himself on Zephyra’s frozen fingers. “Does that sound okay to you?” she asked, addressing the miniscule dragon directly. The small creature gave her a big nod and started nuzzling into Zephyra’s hand again.

\-----

Life ran a hand through her hair, why were none of her schemes working? She was Life! Ancalagion had only resulted in a few seconds of minor terror at most! Creating creatures to terrify and wow mortals and gods alike was quite literally her domain of expertise. Surely she just needed to think differently, perhaps a kraken? Those terrified lots of people. Her hands started to conjure the gossamer weave of her powers, but quickly she dismissed the idea as a new one occurred to her, no, she didn’t need a creature, how could she not have realised before, she had in her arsenal the most intimidating creature ever created, and she didn't’ even need to make one from scratch. Ever so slowly, she turned around and fixed her husband with a thoughtful look.

For the first time in his long, long existence, Death did not like the look on his wife’s face.

\-----

Life had seen Death intimidate many a god in the past, and she was expecting nothing less than perfection here, the full works, the super-natural chill rolling forth from his cloak, the oppressive weight of his raw power weighing on their bodies and sending their bones creaking from the strain; and sure enough, when Zephyra, still in her sleepwear and wrapped in one of Young Death’s confectionary-themed dressing gowns, answered the door early one morning when Young Death was still tangled up in their blankets with a mobra at her feet and a tiny dragon on her bedside table curled up on top of a golden coin, Death was standing at the threshold exuding all his usual menace.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Zephyra asked, fighting to keep her teeth from chattering in the supernatural cold as Death bade her to the kitchen, sat at the island, and calmly requested some tea.  
“Just a social call” Death said, in a voice like tombstones grinding together.

Elsewhere, Life turned away from her reflecting pool with a triumphant smirk, and as she did so Death’s menacing aura instantly evaporated.  
“I do apologize for that,” he took the tea that Zephyra poured them both with gratitude, “my wife is under some kind of impression that you need to be warned off hurting our daughter, and I thought it might be best if I offered to speak with you before you were made the owners of an exuberant kraken. Zephyra paled at the very thought and Death suppressed a laugh.

They ended up having a lovely little chat, and Death complimented her choice of tea as most exceptional before he left with a box of it, and Zephyra padded back upstairs and crawled back into her bed with heavy eyes.

“What was that about?” Young Death asked as Zephyra slipped an arm around her waist under the blankets and pulled her close.  
“Just your father intervening before we’re sent a kraken” Young Death giggled into her collarbone.  
“I think these two are quite enough. Especially with your racoon around as often as he is.”  
“Mmmhmm” Zephyra grumbled at the mere thought of her kleptomaniacal charge and Young Death grinned widely.  
“Going back to sleep?”  
“Unless an actual kraken shows up.” Young Death fingered the hem of her cookie-patterned pajamas as she thought about that potential conversation.  
“Best to take our peace while we can.”

At their feet Morrison snuffled in his dreams and Ancalagon on the dressing table gave a tiny puff of flame out of his nostrils as he slept atop his hoard of a single gold coin. With a content smile Young Death cuddled closer to Zephyra. Neither of them even had any need for sleep, but the one thing she had learned from mortals was that the value of a good lie-in before a potential conversation with one’s mother could never be understated.


End file.
